YUMMY VALENTINE’S DAY SHAKE

February 14th, 2010

I haven’t updated my blog in, oh, about three thousand years. I may be the worst blogger ever. To say there’s been a lot going on feels like a giant understatement. I’ll skip most of it because it’s nothing remotely glamorous or cool, BUT… the cool part is that we did open up a One Lucky Duck in Chelsea Market! We had a bit of a false start and there’s a story there but I’ll save it for another post. The first time around there was a bit of a bump in the road, or… two really big bumps. If I were to write a memoir chapter on this episode some day, it would be titled ā€œOne Lucky Duck and Two Fat F*%ksā€. Pardon my French. But, this time we’re running the show and open for good. J I LOVE LOVE LOVE Chelsea Market! If you haven’t been there, go now!

chocolate strawberry shake 3Whether you’re at Chelsea Market or at 17th street One Lucky Duck or sitting at Pure Food and Wine (which is now open for lunch too… one lucky duck menu 12-3pm), you can order one of these Valentine’s shakes. Truth be told (which I have a habit of doing) I’m not much of a shake person. I usually prefer to chew my food. But this one’s different… I think it’s the special ingredients. Lucuma, Yacon, Maca! They’re ā€œadaptogensā€ which are supposed to be good for your hormones and mine have been raging these days so I think this shake makes me feel better. Plus, if I may say so myself, it’s damn tasty. I was never a huge fan of maca before. But it works here along with the yacon and lucuma. All blended into thisĀ Chocolate Covered Strawberry shake. Sorry for the sucky photo… I don’t have access to better ones at the moment, this was a quickie from an iPhone in the kitchen. I’ll add more pix later!

So I was feeling really brilliant when I came up with this, in part because I’ve been so busy I haven’t made up anything new in forever, and also because these special ingredients just happen to be really good for Valentine’s Day. And they ended up working really well in a strawberry and chocolate context, also very Valentine’s Day appropriate. You can make this shake using either coconut water, or cashew milk, or some of both. I like some of both. If you don’t want to make cashew milk by soaking and blending the nuts, you can always make really fast cashew milk using cashew butter. Put a heaping tablespoon in the blender and add a cup or two of water and blend. Easy.

I’ll post the recipe below, and some info on maca, yacon, and lucuma (wonder foods!). But first, a note on Valentine’s Day. I’m going to regurgitate a paragraph from a post I wrote a few years ago (click here to read the full post). (I just noticed that in the beginning of that post, I open with guess what? An apology for not having posted in ages!) Anyway. I babble about how much Valentine’s Day can suck, with all the expectation that comes with it, or for some, the feeling of loneliness. But I’m really much more optimistic than that. Anyway. For inquiring minds that want to know, I had a Valentine three years ago when I wrote that blog, and I have the same one this year and am feeling very lucky. :-) Though, it’s Valentine’s night and he’s fast asleep on the couch right now. :-(

Karen here at the Duck posted the paragraph in a newsletter and the response was so sweet so will put it again at the end of all this.

One to the wonder foods.

What’s so great about Maca? It’s a Peruvian root and tastes sort of like malted butterscotch. It’s supposed to increase energy, endurance, physical strength, and libido. Apparently, ancient Incan warrior soldiers would consume this precious root before battle to make them fiercely strong, but then were prohibited from taking it while in the city in order to protect women from their heightened sexual appetite. (I’m wondering why they all just didn’t eat maca and get it on?). Being an adaptogen (like ginseng) it’s supposed to balance your hormones and so enhance your ability to handle stress. There’s another reason for me to drink lots of these shakes. Also, it’s high in calcium, B1, and B12. Also good for PMS! Hooray!

And Yacon and Lucuma? I only recently discovered how much I love these. I didn’t get to put any recipes using them (or maca ) in my last book. I only mentioned them, with a little bit of info. And I think I said that if I had pet hamsters I’d name them Yacon and Lucuma. I’m surprised my editor/publisher didn’t strike that sentence. Aside from cute pet names, Yacon and Lucuma are two more Peruvian super yum foods. One fruit, one root. The fruit lucuma (also known as egg fruit) has dry flesh with a sort of maple-y sweet potato-y flavor and is incredibly low glycemic. It’s highly nutritious with lots of beta carotene, iron, B2 and B1. It’s mildly sweet but works really well in certain fruit shakes. I’m definitely going to work on a lot more shakes using lucuma.

Yacon is a tuber (root veg), also incredibly low glycemic (some say non glycemic) and it’s said to be a good digestive aid and also to help with nutrient absorption and weight loss, and, because it helps balance your hormones, is good for fertility. The sweetness in Yacon comes from a complex sugar that breaks down into, get this, fructooligosacharide. Or, FOS. It’s a special type of fructose that the human body can’t absorb and so it leaves the body undigested. This is why it’s so good for diabetics. It also contains only about half the calories of other sugar sources. Finally, the FOS promotes the production of healthy probiotics, which is how it helps your digestion. Screw Activia, just use lots of Yacon. Beware however, it has a very rich molasses-y flavor.

On to the recipe:

Chocolate Covered Strawberry

For 2

1 cup fresh or frozen strawberries

1 cup fresh or frozen raspberries

1 cup frozen banana

1½ cups coconut water

1½ cups cashew milk  (OR, 3 cups of either one)

2 heaping tablespoons yacon powder

2 heaping tablespoons lucuma powder

1 heaping tablepsoon maca powder

2 tablespoons vanilla extract

2 tablespoons agave nectar or pinch stevia (optional, if you like it extra sweet)

Pinch Himalayan sea salt

1 heaping tablespoon cacao powder (add for second half)

Put all the ingredients except the cocoa powder in the blender and blend. If it’s too thick add more coconut water or cashew milk. Taste and add agave or stevia if you want it sweeter (or, more lucuma). Fill two glasses halfway, using about half of what’s in the blender.

Add the cocoa powder to the remaining shake in the blender and blend. (add cacao nibs too if you like those in your shakes). Top off the glasses with the chocolate. It helps if you pour it gently around the inside perimeter of the glass (otherwise it will just fall straight down in the center and you won’t get the pretty layers). Put a raspberry or strawberry on top and sprinkle w/ cacao nibs. YUM.

Because we love these ingredients, for a little while we’re having a special on yacon, lucuma, and maca… you can get all three at a reduced cost, online only. You can also get them all individually in our juice bar on 17th street (and I’m adding them to Chelsea Market shop this week!)

Okay, finally, here’s that last paragraph, potentially really sappy, from my years ago Valentine’s Day blog.

When you’re in love, make sure you love that person for who they are, not what they do for you, or what you want them to be, or do, or how you want them to make you feel.Ā  Love without expectations.Ā  Love without worrying so much about the future.Ā  It feels really good that way.Ā  And love all the people around you out of compassion.Ā  Love people who don’t know better.Ā  Love even people who are not nice to others, because those people are probably in pain.Ā  Find a way to fill yourself up and feel secure enough to open your heart.Ā  That’s when the good stuff happens.Ā  Love makes the world revolve.Ā  Put it out there and it comes back to you.Ā  And it feels nice.Ā  Happy Valentine’s Day.

xo Sarma

I’M NOT A VEGETARIAN

December 5th, 2009

My favorite quote on the issue of being vegetarian, or not. Ā Exactly why I don’t call myself a vegetarian, vegan, raw foodist, environmentalist, or anything-ist.

“I think that people have framed this conversation in absolutes. Either you are or you aren’t. The word vegetarian, I think, does a disservice because there are a lot of people who care but maybe don’t care, or can’t care in an ultimate way. If you think about environmentalism, nobody would ask, “Are you an environmentalist or not?” The question doesn’t make any sense. And the notion that the first time you drive in a car or fly in a plane that you should throw your hands up in the air and say, “Okay, well I give up. I’m not going to try at all anymore,” is crazy. If people thought about food more like how we think about the environment, a lot of people would be eating differently and the whole system would look a lot different.”

- Jonathan Safran Foer, from an interview about his book Eating Animals, with Kiera Butler for motherjones.com.

To see the whole interview click here. To see his book on Amazon… here.

I get asked a lot if I’m vegetarian, or vegan. I don’t call myself or think of myself that way, even though I eat that way most of the time. Just not 100% of the time. And I don’t like rules. Some people are absolutist about it which is actually admirable, but it’s not what works for me. And I don’t think pushing absolutism onto others is what will change the world.

People! Just… shift. I hear this a lot:Ā ”Oh, I tried to go vegetarian but it was just too hard!” Well, did you try just maybe eating less meat? Same thing with being raw. If the goal is to get more people in the world to shift more to raw plant based foods and be healthier (and happier), lets just make it appealing! Not act like it’s a strict way of life, or requiring all kinds of sacrifice and change, which is intimidating.

I may care about the environment enough to recycle, compost, drink out of my own metal bottles, and generally try to be less of a “consumer” of stuff, but I’m still going to hop a plane to Tokyo if I get another invite, and sometimes I take really long showers. It all comes down to thinking about living in a community, which includes animals too, and an eco-system that’s getting seriously messed up. If everyone knew what was happening to the fish in the oceans and what that’s doing to our environment, people would be eating a lot less tuna melts. Or, I’d hope so.

I’m sure anyone who loves JSF’s book and has tried to gently pass it along or suggest it has heard “Oh! I heard about that book. I don’t want to read that… isn’t it going to make me want to not eat meat anymore?” I want to push my head through a wall every time I hear this. Or, push theirs! I mean really… really?? Did you really just say that? Why do so many people have this response?

Part of me wants to shove their face in the book, strap them down in front of the right documentaries, and ask, “Really? You want to keep on F-ing up the world for everyone else, keep everyone on the destruction train until we crash, just because somehow the idea of shifting what you eat is too… too what? Offensive? Difficult?” You really don’t want to know what you’re eating?

Then I try to relax and get back to my optimistic state. I try to stay far away from being judgmental. But I don’t think what I’m writing here is about being judgmental–it’s Ā about wanting people to be informed. And also, I really don’t want to push anyone’s head through a wall. I mean, I don’t think so.

GOOD HOLIDAY STUFF

November 20th, 2009

IMG_1077xy

Look, it’s my favorite recycled photo from a couple years ago of me and Nick (aka Duckman). Festive?

It feels like summer just ended and now all of a sudden Thanksgiving is next week and after that, the winter holidays. The season of shiny red and green decorations every where we look, TV ads about holiday shopping, traffic jams at the mall, holiday parties, Christmas cake, cookies, and candy all over the office, and morning news segments about how get through the holidays without getting fat. FUN! I can’t wait.

Open a magazine and you’ll probably find an article about how to ā€œsurvive the holidays.ā€ What does that mean? What’s the result if you haven’t survived? You ate an entire Christmas smorgasbord, and the chaos of shopping, traveling, and your family was just too much and you’re in a ball rocking back and forth drooling egg nog, waiting to be carried off by the men in white coats? You literally transformed into a Christmas fruitcake?

I don’t think that needs to happen. But it can definitely feel like a lot of pressure! I should know, I’ve skipped out on the holidays altogether for 3 of the last 4 years. But I don’t want to do that anymore. Things don’t have to be as hard as we sometimes make them, by being too ambitious in our desire to make everything perfect and/or then delaying sorting out the details. (Being a perfectionist and a procrastinator is not an easy combo of traits to have!) Anyway, I’m getting much better in these areas. Ā We’re doing a pretty cool gift card promotion at One Lucky Duck (and Pure Food and Wine) (basically, like a free $20 card if you buy a $100 card, and it scales up/down, more details in the following link) through 12/20. I posted all about this on our Duck News blog and also about my favorite ideas for (perfect) holiday presents. To read that longer post and fun stuff, click here! Ā Happy Thanksgiving, and Happy Holidays.

METALLICA, RAW, WHO KNEW

November 18th, 2009

OK, so a shorter post from me finally! (Scary that for me, this is short). Anyway. I went to Metallica last Sunday night. My fourth time seeing them. For over 25 years I’ve been a fan, though of the first three albums mainly (in a big way), then four and five, then after that was lost a bit, till this last one. Anyway. I’ve also been really busy for the last long while, so I don’t get up and out to concerts very much at all, it’s usually random and last minute when it happens, as in this case. It was the incredibly gracious and most lovely (and ridiculously beautiful) bass player that invited me as their guest! That completely exciting news aside, he’s one of those people with that aura of hard to explain really good energy. I’m thinking he also gets lumped into that category of nicest people on the planet.

So I’m finally at the restaurant when he comes in and I finally get to meet him for the first time, and what was I wearing? A Phish baseball hat (which I couldn’t remove b/c my unwashed flattened hair would be worse). Joey, our bartender (huge understatement, but you know) pulls out a copy of my last book, and shows him the photos of me wearing an old Ride the Lightning shirt. I think that photo, plus my swearing the hat was my boyfriend’s not mine, reassured him I’m indeed a true Metallica head. (If I could ever find my high school year book, my blurb under my photo where most people put stuff like ā€œremember good times w/ AB & XY!ā€, or lofty literary quotes, I put the first four lines of the song Master of Puppets.)

Prickly Pear2

Anyway. So. It seems the whole band goes raw for stretches of time while on tour. Not really the sort of crew one might imagine being raw, but what makes me happy is that there seem to be lot of people now totally smashing the stereotype of the crunchy looking vegan or totally blissed out and hemp clad ā€œbest day everā€ raw foodists (you know who you are I love you too!). Can anyone imagine the Metallica guys singing about having the best day ever?

The show was amazing, and getting VIP treatment there made me totally goofy excited. I’d barely eaten all day so ended up drinking lots of beers in the lounge before the show. Totally randomly, while Lamb of God were playing, Lars runs into the lounge and looks at me and goes ā€œMarcia?ā€ then runs out. I don’t know who Marcia is, but I wanted to say ā€œYES!?ā€ Sadly, that was about all I saw of any of them close up that night. My hopes of backstage hanging out were dashed when they had to leave to get on a plane (or, just leave, as I’d imagine post concert fan craziness could be even more draining than playing on stage for two hours). I’d even brought a bunch of One Lucky Duck cookies for them. ā€œBringing cookies to Metallicaā€ sounds funny.

Side note… anyone who likes Metallica at all should check out Volbeat. They were the first opener and I made sure we got there in time to see them perform. I’d been listening to them (and Metallica) for the day and a half I knew I was going before the show. They’re amazing. I’m now a crazy fan of theirs, and keep telling everyone I know to listen to them. I love them!

Another side note… while looking for something online I found a bunch of youtube videos of the completely amazing Rodrigo y Gabriela playing Metallica covers. They’re music is completely different, but so worth talking about and sharing (and obviously listening to). Incredibly beautiful and amazing music and I love them too.

Back to Metallica. They played an amazing show, and lots of old stuff, which I’m guessing they know by now is what so many people who come to the shows want to hear. Again I can’t stress how totally rad I think it is that they’re (at least partially, or even just once in a while) into raw. For a lot of people, raw is just the way they eat, not something they talk about much, or identify themselves with. But for me, because this is my business, it’s very much my world, not just what I eat. And being in this world I so often feel defensive. So many people still have this perception that eating meat and ā€œheartyā€ food is manly and that eating raw/vegan is the opposite, or even like it’s a joke. Like guys who eat vegan or raw vegan are pussy wimps. The guys from Metallica? Pussies? I think not!!!

p.s. Rob said he’d try to bring the whole band in for dinner some time. Just thinking about it makes me all crazy giddy.

p.p.s. The guys from the lesser known band Helmet all came in once a long time ago. Little did they know, the owner (me) had their song ā€œMilquetoastā€ on her (my) iPod and played it in the middle of service. Anyway, random, but point is, raw food can be for heavy metal people too! J Now I need to find a way to get Volbeat in.

THE END OF GOURMET (and why I’m so bummed)

October 17th, 2009

Gourmet Cover Image 2

Why? Why why why…? It was October 5th, about two weeks ago, I was at the gym, on the treadmill. Loud music blasting in my iPod earphones, CNN on the screen in front of me, both meant to distract me from dwelling on the fact that I’m running on a conveyor belt alongside other people running on conveyor belts. Then I saw it. An image on the TV screen of the cover of the latest issue of Gourmet magazine, and the printed headline, ā€œGourmet magazine closes after 70 years.ā€ WHAT!? No Way! How is that possible? I’m frantically looking around, for… what… ? I think I was expecting others must have seen this headline and also stopped running out of shock and disbelief, like me. I was thinking I’d see people hugging, comforting one another over the news, shaking their heads. But no, I only saw people still running, pedaling, and the usual sea of heads bobbing up and down in the elliptical section.

I couldn’t keep going. I had to know what happened, so I ran home and checked online and yes, indeed, Conde Nast was shutting down Gourmet. Along with 3 other titles: a cookie magazine and two bridal magazines. I don’t get it. Isn’t there another silly magazine they could shut down? How about Golf World or Golf Digest? Does the world really need both? (or either?) Immediately I emailed my Mom, my Stepmom, and chef Neal, among others, like ā€œOMG, did you hear???ā€ They too were saddened. I wanted to call people and talk about it. I wanted to pull out a bottle of good wine and sit on the floor with all my old issues spread out around me, flipping through them and getting drunk and nostalgic.

I wanted to grieve. I wanted to be around people who understood and were similarly bummed out. I felt like there should be a huge and grand memorial service. Ruth Reichl (the editor) would get up and speak, past editors would get up and speak. All the food world would be there, dressed in dark clothes, and easels everywhere with giant cover images. Then everyone would drink really really good wine, and eat lots of beautiful food, and feel the comfort of communal mourning. Maybe there was such a service and I just wasn’t invited.

Anyway. I was reminded of all of this earlier today as I flipped through my copy of Bon Appetit, Conde Nast’s other food publication that was chosen over Gourmet to live on. The close up photos inside looked gory, the bulky font headlines over them cartoonish, and the dishes simple and uninspiring. Even the lighting on the styled photos looked weird and shadowy. The headlines were: ā€œEntertaining Do’s and Don’tsā€, ā€œParty Dessertsā€, ā€œHealthy Holiday Foodsā€, ā€œ68 Recipes to Mix & Matchā€ and ā€œLeftovers Done Right!ā€ with the boring November issue glossy turkey cover, and ā€œThanksgiving Made Easy!ā€ across the top. Thanksgiving isn’t supposed to be easy! You’re supposed to labor, with love.

Gourmet was beautiful and classy. It was only a few days before the fateful announcement that I read what I would never have suspected was my last issue. I even thought to myself I was going to call and double back up on my subscription like I did years ago. This way, I can tear out pages in one copy, and keep the other untouched, for my collection. Did I mention I have every single issue filed away going back through 1997? That’s 12 years. I used to have a few more years before that but I recall a very painful and reluctant purging of a couple piles a long time ago. One day I’m going to get the covers scanned and copied and will wallpaper a kitchen hallway with them. Or something like that. Every cover was a work of art, with more pages of art inside. Vegan or not, I was particularly struck by the photos on p. 102/103 of pork chops. ā€œPork chopā€ just sounds vulgar. But the photo on page 103 is a work of art. If you get obsessed about color like I do, you’d understand. The pink of the inside of the meat, the mossy dark green backdrop, the burgundy wine… I want to go back to all these pages when I’m picking colors for packaging labels, for furniture fabrics, for clothing I want to design, for whatever I’m putting together, in my Martha Stewart-esque creative fantasy land.

Going almost all raw vegan six years ago did nothing to lessen my appreciation for the pages of this magazine. It’s very much a celebration of the art and elegance of food, restaurants, and cooking. But it’s also been more thoughtful than that. In the August 2004 summer issue (with the sexy cover photo of blackberry jam in a glass jar with a wooden spoon) the editor bravely published an article which infuriated many of the magazine’s readers. It was called ā€œConsider the Lobsterā€ written by the famous writer David Foster Wallace (known for novels, short stories, and essays, not food writing, who also, btw, killed himself about a year ago…L). They sent him to report on the 56th annual Maine Lobster Festival (where ā€œsomething over 25,000 pounds of fresh-caught Maine lobster is consumed’). She published his entire essay without editing a word. It’s really long and full of digressions and lengthy footnotes. But as Ruth Reichl points out in her Editor’s Letter, ā€œit is hilarious, thought-provoking, very uncomfortable—and something you’re not likely to forget anytime soon.ā€

With all of its funny details, Wallace makes you feel like you’re there with him. His comments on his discomfort with mass tourism (specifically in footnote 6) are particularly sobering given that he took his own life a few years later. Why is introspection such torture? In the spirit of Wallace’s many digressions, I’m totally digressing here to include a link to a thoroughly beautiful speech given on an overlapping and entirely relevant issue by the writer Elizabeth Gilbert. You can see it here. It’s 20 minutes. Well worth it. Believe me, I have no patience for youtube crap, but this is the opposite. From the TED series, I was referred to this talk by my friend, champion, and hero, Seth Godin. Watch it. Especially if you’ve ever felt tormented by the creative process, whether writing, creating art or music, science, or building a business.

Back to lobsters. Where was I. OK, so part way through this incredibly engaging article, Wallace puts forth what seemed to him in this context an unavoidable question:

ā€œIs it all right to boil a sentient creature alive just for our gustatory pleasure? A related set of concerns: Is the previous question irksomely PC or sentimental? What does ā€˜all right’ even mean in this context? Is it all just a matter of individual choice?ā€

Gourmet magazine has been around for almost twice as long as I have, so I haven’t read all the issues, but I’m guessing this is the first time this sort of question was raised in its pages. In a corresponding footnote he points out:

ā€œSimilar reasoning underlies the practice of what’s termed ā€˜debeaking’ broiler chickens and brood hens in modern factory farms. Maximum commercial efficiency requires that enormous poultry populations be confined in unnaturally close quarters, under which conditions many birds go crazy and peck one another to death. As a purely observational side-note, be apprised that debeaking is usually an automated process and that the chickens receive no anesthetic. It’s not clear to me whether most Gourmet readers know about debeaking, or about related practices like dehorning cattle in commercial feedlots, cropping swine’s tails in factory hog farms to keep psychotically bored neighbors from chewing them off, and so forth. It so happens that your assigned correspondent knew almost nothing about standard meat-industry operations before starting work on this article.ā€

The article is so good that it’s really hard not to quote the entire thing. He’s taking you along with him as he learns a bunch of new stuff himself. In another paragraph he points out:

ā€œThe more important point here, though, is that the whole animal-cruelty-and-eating issue is not just complex, it’s also uncomfortable. It is, at any rate, uncomfortable for me, and for just about everyone I know who enjoys a variety of foods and yet does not want to see herself as cruel or unfeeling. As far as I can tell, my own main way of dealing with this conflict has been to avoid thinking about the whole unpleasant thing. I should add that it appears to me unlikely that many readers of Gourmet wish to think hard about it, either, or to be queried about the morality of their eating habits in the pages of a culinary monthly. Since, however, the assigned subject of this article is what it was like to attend the 2003 MLF, and thus to spend several days in the midst of a great mass of Americans all eating lobster, and thus to be more or less impelled to think hard about lobster and the experience of buying and eating lobster, it turns out that there is no honest way to avoid certain moral questions.ā€

He goes on investigating these questions incredibly thoroughly and thoughtfully, without judgment. I love that the whole thing is without judgment and very personal. You rarely learn so much about the author in a food magazine article. Anyway. He says,

ā€œI’m not trying to give you a PETA-like screed here—at least I don’t think so. I’m trying, rather, to work out and articulate some of the troubling questions that arise amid all the laughter and salutation and community pride of the Maine Lobster Festival. The truth is that if you, the Festival attendee, permit yourself to think that lobsters can suffer and would rather not, the MLF can begin to take on aspects of something like a Roman circus or medieval torture-fest.ā€

Consider the Lobster

And finally, his conclusion isn’t conclusive, just more thoughtful questions:

ā€œGiven this article’s venue and my own lack of culinary sophistication, I’m curious about whether the reader can identify with any of these reactions and acknowledgments and discomforts. I am also concerned not to come off as shrill or preachy when what I really am is confused. …  Is their refusal to think about any of this the product of actual thought, or is it just that they don’t want to think about it? Do they ever think about their reluctance to think about it? After all, isn’t being extra aware and attentive and thoughtful about one’s food and its overall context part of what distinguishes a real gourmet? Or is all the gourmet’s extra attention and sensibility just supposed to be aesthetic, gustatory?ā€

I love love love this essay. And I love Ruth Reichl even more than I did before for printing it. Many readers were furious and cancelled their subscriptions after this article appeared. Which I think is ridiculous. He put forth incredibly relevant (an understatement) questions for people to think about. After all, didn’t I just wax on in the above paragraphs about the beautiful photo of pork chops? Admiring the aesthetics of the photo vs. the content—the artfulness of it rather than the reality that it’s a photograph of a slice of a cooked slab of dead pig?

Watching those nature shows on TV where the lioness attacks and kills the gazelle—I can’t help feeling sad for the poor gazelle, the one of the herd that gets caught and taken down. But the gazelle wasn’t trapped, restrained, de-beaked (if it had a beak—you know what I’m getting at), demeaned, injected with hormones and antibiotics, fed a bunch of crap, or forced to walk a plank and watch a bunch of gazelles before it get unceremoniously and thoughtlessly slain before its turn to die. Was the pig in the photo? I don’t know. I could go on and on thinking these things through.

I loved this article when I first read it in 2004 and I love it now. It’s much easier to read, by the way, if you click on the ā€œprintā€ icon and print the whole thing, 11 pages of paper consumed and all. Easier to read the footnotes that way, and then you can pass it along to someone who might not read it online. Like your grandma. While you’re at it, click on the link to the related articles and you’ll find quite a bit on Food Politics, such as ā€œA View to a Killā€ which investigates America’s chicken industry and more humane ways to raise and kill chickens. This one doesn’t even compare to the amazingness that is the lobster article, but again I was cheering Gourmet for printing it and others like it—for raising these questions to its readers.

Despite all the questions in my own mind, I still love the photography and overall beauty and spirit of this now defunct food magazine. I just realized if you flip back a few pages from the pork picture I was admiring so much, there’s a beautiful full page photo of the featured chef holding a lamb, but he’s not in a chef coat and he’s not proudly posing with his prey. He’s holding the lamb like you’d hold a kitten and kissing its forehead. And opposite the pork beauty shot is a quarter page black and white of a pig. These are stunning shots, and their inclusion in the magazine acknowledges that the food in the photos come from these beautiful creatures. Which reminds me… if you’ve been to my restaurant Pure Food and Wine, then you’ve probably noticed the three different photographs on one wall of a very spirited looking duck. I found this photo before the restaurant opened in another 2004 issue of Gourmet. What struck me about it was how the duck was looking right into the camera with an almost feisty sort of look in his eye. I was in love with that photograph (and tracked down the photographer to get it). Little did I know that photo would inspire the name of my company a year later. :)

I will miss this magazine. The pages of Gourmet will always be inspiring to me.

Gourmet Cover Image 1

composting is fun

September 28th, 2009

I love stinky fresh garbage. Why didn’t I compost before? At the Union Square Greenmarket, only one block away from me, they have barrels where you can drop compost. And they’re there every other weekday and Saturday. But where to store stinky, rotty compost in a small NYC apt? The freezer! We compost at the restaurant but that gets picked up, I never know when, and it just seems wrong to bring banana peels and avocado pits into the restaurant. So my BF and I store it in a bag in the freezer—all really nice organic stuff including cucumber peelings, mango peelings and pits, juiced lemon and lime halves, apple cores, and all my trimmings from the greenshakes I make, like kale stems and pineapple skins. The bag fills up really fast, and shoving it back into the freezer isn’t always easy, but for some reason, I get really happy when we have tons to compost.

I’m not good with errands. I put them off and let them pile up, because I always feel like there’s loads of stuff way more urgent to deal with. But going to drop off compost? This is fun! I never feel like I should be doing anything else. Going to the greenmarket and dumping out our bag of frozen compost into their compost buckets is satisfying in a very I’m-part-a-happy-eco-system-community kind of way. (OK, admittedly he goes to drop it off way more often than I do, but I still like doing it).

All that fresh produce is stuff you feel good about consuming in the first place, but then having byproduct you feel good about disposing of is very cool. Recycling bottles isn’t quite the same. I sort of feel kind of bad for consuming these anyway (like all the glass kombucha bottles), and they get sorted and put in bins in the stinky basement of my building, but who knows where they end up and what happens to them. The other thing I like about our little composting arrangement is that we didn’t have to buy a big plastic or otherwise unnecessary bin or contraption to start doing it. I saw a show on TV about being more of an environmentalist. The person in the show was going around getting families to recycle more. Which is totally cool. But still, he installed in and around their home so many gigantic brightly colored plastic receptacles, as well as smaller ones in places like the bathroom (so they don’t have to walk the marathon to another room to deposit an empty shampoo bottle?) that I wonder how many bottles they need to recycle before they’ve even broken even at now having consumed those big otherwise unnecessary plastic bins. I come home with a lot of those brown oneluckyduck bags from the takeaway, so a couple of those sit by the door and that’s where all our bottles go. Giant plastic bucket not necessary. Anyway. You could drive yourself crazy trying to be the perfect eco-model. But whatever. I’m all excited about composting.

Since I don’t have a photo of compost nor would it look very pretty to post a picture of compost, my pretty kitty is getting his photo placed here. Totally unrelated to composting. But here he is trying to get a sip from my water glass. He sits (or sleeps) on my desk next to my computer all day/night or whenever I’m here working. He eats only raw food. He recently opened his own twitter account. You can follow him at twitter.com/oneluckypet.

DSCN1105

FIERCE VEGAN SHOES

September 6th, 2009

I’m a terrible shopper. I never do it. Or, hardly ever. And I don’t really enjoy it. I mean, not that I’m not looking forward to lots of shopping one day, or better yet, a personal shopper! But, for now, I just don’t shop. I ā€œshopā€ by digging around in my closet to find something from long ago I’d forgotten about that I can get away with and also fit into.

I had to go to an important party a while back and was trying to sort out what to wear. So I emailed my friend Chloe Jo. She’s a Pure Food and Wine / One Lucky Duck regular, and the fiercest glammed out vegan. She also started girlegirlarmy.com—your ā€œGlamazon Guide to Green Livingā€ where you can sign up for a newsletter to get the green and totally animal friendly fashion hook up. Whenever I’m around Chloe Jo, I feel like a total bag lady. Anyway. When I mentioned that I didn’t have anything to wear and would probably just wear my usual random summer dress and sneakers, she was like, ā€œNO to sneakers, girl! Go down to Kaight and pick out something hot. And go to OlsenHaus for shoes.ā€ She then followed up with lists and links for where to go to find the best in eco-fashion. She was all over it. I surfed through the links and even took a trip down to these stores. My favorite online discovery was Lara Miller. She has beautiful dresses. You can check out all her collections on that site. (BTW, my birthday is coming up and that coat on the right side of p. 3 of the ’09 fall collection is pretty cool. Just in case anyone needs to know. Right. Also, just in case… a Sony Vaio TT series notebook, a spa vacation, cash money…). Anyway. Also while surfing, I came across embodies.com – definitely one of the coolest eco-clothing online stores I’ve drooled over. I can’t write about eco clothes without honorable mention to this coat from loyale. I got one two years ago. It’s like wearing a teddy bear.

So what did I end up wearing to that party? Yes, something from the back of my closet (very economical!) I settled on a dress I got four years ago, and some mary jane heels that have taken me to a party or two (and even spent time immersed with me in a hot tub after a particularly fun hotel wedding, but that’s another story). Still, I later ended up getting a pair of the fiercest vegan shoes, from OlsenHaus (below). They happen to be the most comfortable pair of heels I’ve ever walked in. There’s a version in linen too that I want. I think I’ll always be most comfortable in a T-shirt, jeans, and an old pair of sneakers. But I think these shoes could convince me to wear sneakers just a little less often.

Olsenhaus_044

conflicted coffee adventures

August 28th, 2009

[This is something I wrote for Get Fresh magazine a while ago, and somehow it never ended up on my blog permanently, so I’m reposting it again—slightly updated/tweaked. Full disclosure—since I originally wrote this, I think a couple years ago, I slid back to coffee yet again, and more than once, always thinking, OK, this is just temporary because I’m having to get ABC done, asap, getting no sleep, and under XYZ pressure, but I’ll definitely stop… tomorrow. So, then of course I start to feel really gross and yet again need to stop. Someone suggested adaptogens, which are meant to be energy boosting and helpful for stress. I started taking them and actually noticed feeling much better. So we added Mega Food Adrenal Strength to the site. Yay!]

It’s been six years now that I’ve been a mostly raw-vegan, most of the time. In my books, blog, and elsewhere, I openly admit to being relatively open-minded when it comes to what I eat. But sometimes being very relaxed about it—particularly in the context of stress and other distractions—leads to the formation of habits before we even realize what’s happened. My own example of this: coffee!Ā  What a hypocrite I am. A whole page in my first co-written book Raw Food Real World is devoted to how bad coffee is.

My transgressions started a few summers ago as one of my early oneluckyduck.com collaborators was frequently drinking coffee around me in my office. I wasn’t sleeping much then and particularly freaked out about a lot of things going on, and the smell of it was very appealing! First I’d ask for a sip, then I’d have a few sips, then I’d just grab the whole cup from him and he’d have to go get another for himself. Before I knew it, I was hooked again. It was that easy.

I felt like an addict with a secret. I’d run to the coffee shop for an iced coffee, then head back towards the restaurant thinking that I really shouldn’t walk in this neighborhood drinking coffee! What if one of the regulars from our juice bar/takeaway saw me! What then? Making it easier for me, my assistant at the time became my ā€œenablerā€ offering to fetch me a fresh iced coffee anytime I wanted. I truly felt like a ā€œuserā€ when I finally bought my own ground coffee.Ā  At least now it’s organic, I rationalized. Still, alone in my own kitchen filling the filter (made of unbleached recycled paper, of course!) with the aromatic grounds, and waiting for the water to boil, I felt like a crack-head with the spoon and lighter.

Continue reading ‘conflicted coffee adventures’

What Are We Missing?

August 23rd, 2009

No, I’m not talking about nutrient deficiencies. This is completely different. This was forwarded to me by a friend and I found it profoundly interesting, and also heartbreaking in a way that’s hard to articulate. I don’t know how to properly credit who wrote this or where it may have been originally printed, since I don’t know. I googled it and found it’s been posted on a lot of blogs and sites. So if it’s old news to you, sorry! It was new to me. Anyway. Here you go. My commentary on why it hit me hard inside follows.

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violinĀ played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

the violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their childrenĀ to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

TheĀ musician played continuously.Ā  Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace.Ā  The manĀ collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities. The questions raised: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:Ā  If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…. How many other things are we missing?

The friend who sent this to me said, ā€œMade me think of how you recognized that the singer at the baseball game as a real talent when no one gave a sh*t!ā€ The week before we were with a group at a Newark Bears baseball game, up in one of the suites. Just before the game, someone was introduced to come out and sing the National Anthem, as usual. Ho hum. Except shortly after he started, I had a major attack of the singing voice goosebumps. I’m used to this because it happens to me all the time when I hear a particularly beautiful voice. But this time it was like never before. I literally felt this rush of some kind of energy come in through my feet and then up my body, and then diffuse out my skin, and I had seriously extra prickly goosebumps. His voice was amazing, and he sang a song that’s known to be very difficult to sing perfectly. I had to focus really hard on not crying, because that would have been super embarrassing. After the song, everyone clapped and then went back to their conversations and iPhones, but I was standing there sort of reeling. Like, did everyone else just not hear that?

I told my friend about it later—I thought he might have remembered the singer’s name. He was introduced by one name and looked like many of the young, new hip-hop/R&B singers that go by one name. It was August 17th, in case anyone knows. There weren’t very many people in the stands and most I think were there only to see Artie Lange throw out the first pitch. If anyone knows who it was, please let me know! I googled and couldn’t find anything.

A couple of months ago I was brought, last minute, to a screening of a documentary about Patti Smith. I sat in the front row. About halfway in, something had gone wrong with the sound, and they stopped the film. Patti came down to the front and took questions and then sang a couple of songs with her guitar. It was amazing. Goosebump city. Then someone asked her to sing that song, Because the Night. She said there was something about it that she couldn’t play on the guitar, so she’d just have to sing it, no guitar, nothing but her voice. I totally started crying. I mean, not audibly sobbing. But like eyes welled up and tears coming down my face, and I was all freaked out because Patti was only about two feet in front of me, famous designer sitting to my left, and friend who I’d met only the day before to my right. So now I’m all focused on trying not to move at all or sniffle and draw any attention my way. Do I reach up to wipe my nose and sniff, and risk someone looking at me? Or let the snot just run out and down over my mouth? This is what I was thinking about, while also getting slammed in my heart by her voice. I’d never heard anything like it before, and definitely not from that close up.

Same thing happened a couple of years ago at a Bad Plus concert. I’d never heard of them, but ran out last minute with my boyfriend and his parents, who I’d only just met, to see the show at this very small place here called the Vanguard. This time it was like during every song, little rivers flowing down my cheeks. There wasn’t anything I could do to make it stop! And I was totally mortified that his parents would look over at me and see my face a wet mess and think there’s something wrong with me. But then when I went to see them a year later, this time at Carnegie Hall, no tears. I think this weird reaction must have a lot to do with the fact that I’m not at all expecting to hear something amazing—instead I’m caught off guard.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m sensitive because I spend so much of my time running around distracted, worried about business, or something, attached to my laptop or fixated on reading from or typing into my blackberry. Basically, I’m not very ā€˜present’ most of the time. I wonder about the Joshua Bell thing… if I’d been there, would I have run right by, all focused on my stupid blackberry or lost in worry, and completely tuned out. Or, literally not have heard it at all because I’d have had my iPod on, as usual. I tend to walk really fast too. I broke my toe last summer, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t walk fast. I had to walk everywhere really slow, like one of those old people that everyone is running past. It was really interesting, because I noticed right away how different it was. I was actually noticing things around me. And I didn’t at all feel like tuning out with my iPod as usual. It was lovely. I looked at every person passing by, into shop windows, up at trees, noticing buildings I’d never noticed before.

This piece about Joshua Bell made me feel sad. Like he points out in the last paragraph, if many of us are so preoccupied, as I tend to be, what are we missing and why is everyone so fully disconnected from everyone around them?

So, I’d also forwarded the email with the violin story to my family, thinking I wanted to share with them something that made me stop and think about a lot of things. My little brother writes back immediately. I see the incoming mail and assume as I’m opening it that he’s written some reply acknowledging and agreeing with me on the profundity of the story. Instead, he wrote just this: ā€œIf a tree farts in the woods and nobody is there to smell it. Does it stink?ā€

:-) Ā Thanks Noah. That made me feel better.

Sunday Morning Swamp Sludge (or, why I love spirulina) (and aloe too) (especially in the summer).

August 2nd, 2009

It’s Sunday morning. I drank some water with lemon. Then I drank some coconut water. (And no, I’m not hungover. I stayed home and went to bed nice and early). I love Sunday mornings when I have no plans, especially when it’s raining out which makes for a good excuse to stay in pajamas all day. On to breakfast.

Here’s what went into my Vitamix: peeled chopped cucumber, about ¼ pineapple, 1 lemon, 1 lime, cup of coconut water (what was left in my quart container), big splash of aloe vera juice, 2 big dropperfuls of green tea extract, dropperful of liquidĀ stevia, small bunch cilantro, small bunch parsley, cup of frozen blueberries, ¼ banana, heaping spoon of Vitamineral Green, more than a heaping spoon of Spirulina, splash of vanilla extract, and a small spoon of hemp protein. If I had bee pollen at home would have thrown some of that in too.

Now, that’s hardly a specifically recommended recipe. It’s just what I happened to have on hand. It looks like swamp sludge. But it tastes really good. I swear. Ā I need to get an iPhone or something so I can take pix of this stuff. I’m pulling an old photo that happens to have a glass of something that resembles today’s breakfast in it. Actually, it’s the same photo from left top corner of blog, just scrolled down. My swamp sludge is much thicker in this case, but a similar color. ANYway!

sarma_after3

So, did you know that spirulina has been proposed by both NASA and the European Space AgencyĀ as one of the primary foods to be cultivated during long-term space missions? (I didn’t, but I just read it on Wikipedia). It contains an unusually high amount of protein (between 55% and 77% in dry weight, depending on the source) and it’s a complete protein, containing all essential amino acids. Again, I’m getting my facts here off the net. I wouldn’t know this off the top of my head. At the moment, I don’t even remember what amino acids really are, but if they’re ā€œessentialā€ I probably want them. Right? I mean, okay, as I recall they’re the building blocks of proteins, but still, I have a hard time visualizing what those looks like. I’m picturing LEGOs. Anyway. What else? This single celled blue green algae is also rich in B vitamins, essential fatty acids (here it is again… essential… I want those fatty acids!), and minerals. Also, with their intense concentration of blue green pigments (chlorophyll and others) they just may be extra good protection against whatever may be harmful about too much sun exposure (damaging UV radiation). Since they just came out with a study claiming tanning beds for sure cause cancer (like, this time, for real, as opposed to just previous rumors?) then you might want to get your spirulina on before heading to tan-o-rama. As a New York City resident, I hereby fully confess to occasional tanning salon visits, in particular pre-photo shoots. The other day, I’m running into my building and my neighbor Maxine goes, ā€œOh Hi, where’d you get that lovely tan!?ā€ and I’m like, ā€œOh, Thanks! I just got it, over on 13th street near University!ā€ as if it’s a handbag or something.

Speaking of sun protection, aloe vera always comes to mind as a soothing post-sun gel. But I like to drink it. This sturdy plant thrives in the desert. It’s full of more of those amino acids, and packed with antioxidants (I always picture cartoonish colorful little round cells fist fighting cartoonish and irregular shaped mean-looking free radicals). Aloe vera juice is used a lot in internal cleansing and detoxifying. If you’re not used to it, you might notice in the beginning that it gets things moving along (if you know what I mean). Apparently, it not only promotes healthy digestion (by expelling bad bacteria and yeast), but it improves bowel regularity. This could be why it contributes to weight regulation and enhances energy levels as well. It makes sense. Who wants to be backed up, or worse, have ā€œirritableā€ bowels, as in IBS, or Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Cranky bowels are no fun.

Drinking aloe vera juice also apparently ā€œrepairs collagen and elastinā€ā€¦ again, I don’t know what that means but I read it all the time in the claims of expensive skin care products, their point being that it (aloe, or the expensive skin care) will make your skin look younger and more radiant. It’s also anti-inflammatory and good for your joints. Cool. Checking on Wikipedia: Other uses for aloe vera include the dilution of semen for the artificial fertilization of sheep. Really? That’s incredibly useful to know. You never know when you might have to artificially fertilize a sheep, especially in New York City.

Now that I’m done writing this, my big glass of fruity swamp sludge has only sludgy-remains in it, but my bowels are happy, and my insides otherwise energized. If only my apartment felt as clean as my intestines.